


Double Exposure

by Moonlady9



Category: Naruto
Genre: Adult Content, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Graphic Description, Modern AU, Oneshot, Smut, Some Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24476878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonlady9/pseuds/Moonlady9
Summary: Sakura Haruno is one of the most prolific fashion designers of her time. She doesn't have time to deal with arrogant, self-centered, egotistical photographers that can't follow instructions. Even if he is talented, and tall, dark, and handsome.Well, maybe she could relax.A little fun never hurt anyone.She could use a little fun.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 42
Kudos: 145





	Double Exposure

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sarcastic_mommy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarcastic_mommy/gifts).



> Hello,  
> I hope everyone is staying safe and sane. This is a gift to the wonderful Sarcastic_Mommy.  
> Thanks for your generosity and for being a wonderful gem to the fandom with your constant support.
> 
> Special thanks to Kakashisgf for being such a wonderful beta and a great support.
> 
> Thank you all for your love and support.

“This is not the chiffon I asked for, and if you thought that I wouldn’t notice or that I would accept inferior chiffon, you obviously shouldn’t be working for me.” Sakura kept walking like a hurricane, unyielding and shaking everyone in her path. She entered the empty photography studio. “Where’s the new photographer?” 

Her assistant, running behind her, answered, “Madara Uchiha is outside in the garden with the models.”

“He’s the photographer Kakashi recommended?” Sakura turned on her heels towards the elevator. “And why the fuck is he in the garden and not here for photographs? I had very clear and specific instructions on what I wanted for the spread.” 

She tapped her perfectly manicured fingers on her side as her assistant, Tenten, a sharp and hardworking brunette, pressed the button for the rooftop garden. “He said he wanted to take advantage of the golden hour.” 

Sakura tisked. “I am not paying him for extracurricular time.” 

The doors had barely opened before she marched out to the garden, following the lined paths to the east side of the building where the light would be best in the early mornings. She found her models and the photographer there. She was about to say something, but his focused stance and the way he was directing the models made her pause. He was crouched down, his ebony hair spilling down his back like a mane. She gave Tenten a curious look; the brunette shrugged.

“You’re breaking my concentration,” his voice rang through the chilly morning air, deep and dark.

Sakura huffed, “Who told you to come up here?”

He didn’t turn to her, just kept taking pictures. “No one, but one of the models mentioned a garden, and I came to see for myself. I liked it better than the studio set up.” He motioned with his hand. “Turn your chin up, darling, there you go.” The model followed his instructions.

“I had a very clear plan and look that I wanted for this collection. It was all prepared for you to only have to take pictures. I won’t be paying you if you don’t complete your assignment or for any extracurricular activity.” Sakura tapped her shoe on the stone steps.

He waved his hand dismissively. “Fine, then let me have my fun. You’ll get the shots you paid for in the time you allotted.” He motioned for the next model.

Sakura gritted her teeth. _Fucken artists, thinking the world is all about them and not about running a successful fashion empire_. “I better get what I paid for, Mr. Uchiha.”

He finally turned away from his camera. He stood up. He was tall—very tall—and broad-shouldered, with a trim waist and eyes of onyx. 

Sakura stood straighter; she would not be intimidated. 

“I assume you are Mrs. Haruno,” he asked, his eyes looking her over methodically. She was petite, small waist, flared hips, muscular legs, full breasts, toned arms, long rosy hair that fell down her back with the most astonishing pair of emerald eyes he had ever encountered.

“ _Miss_ Haruno.” Her eyes narrowed to his. She had dealt with enough assholes in her life; she knew how to handle them.

“Apologies, _Miss_ Haruno, you will have your photographs and your models back to your satisfaction.” He gave her a succinct nod and turned back to his work. “Lean back. I want to see your graceful neck.” He maneuvered the beauty in front of him.

Sakura let out a sigh. _Fucken artists._

She turned and walked back with Tenten trailing behind her.

“He has a good reputation with other fashion houses,” her assistant offered.

“Yes, he did come well recommended.” Sakura couldn’t stop thinking of his eyes, as wild and purposeful as a tornado. “Is Kakashi in yet? He hasn’t reported on procuring me the specialty lace for the winter collection.”

Tenten looked at her tablet. “Looks like he’s online. Do you want to go to the planning floor?”

Sakura pressed the button for the second floor. “He better have found it, or I’ll fire him, Ten.”

A small smile crossed Tenten’s face. “Well, he always seems to come through when it matters most.”

“That bastard is just lucky. I don’t know how he does it, but it is why I keep him around.” The corner of Sakura’s lips turned up. 

The elevator opened, and she stepped out onto the concrete warehouse flooring. There were rolls of fabric everywhere, curtains of silk, velvet, chiffon, and so much more covering the entire area. She walked to the far end of the floor, where her Head of Procurement had his office. She could see him leaning back, his feet on his desk and a book in his hand through the window. She opened the door and stepped in. He didn’t budge.

“It can’t be good for your skin to be so tense this early in the morning, Sakura.” Even his voice was lazy. He turned the page of his book as she sat down.

“I’ll be less tense if you can tell me you got the lace I need for the right price.” She smoothed her sheath dress, pulling it down her thighs.

“And if I told you I’m working on it?” His face remained hidden behind the cover of his book.

She let out an exasperated sigh. “Kakashi, I need the lace by the end of the week. I need to start working on next year’s winter collection.”

He waved his hand dismissively. “I’ll get it for you. Don’t worry. Relax.”

Sakura scoffed. That was the second time in twenty minutes that she had been dismissed like that. She stood up, grabbed the book, and slammed it on the table. “I need the fucken lace, Kakashi, or so help me, I will send you to work with Gai in design.”

“How’s the photographer?” Kakashi tried to change tactics.

“No, don’t think you can distract me.” She opened the door, then turned back to look at him over her shoulder. “The fucken lace, Kakashi. Now!” She heard the scurrying of Tenten as she slammed the door behind her. “Why is everyone out to make my day difficult?” 

While she walked the floor, she asked for rolls of fabric to be sent up to her studio. “What else do I have to take care of before I get to work on designs?”

Tenten looked down at her tablet. “Ino is taking care of distribution and talent. Gai is working on production of the retail line. Naruto is handling the couture orders. You already saw the photographer and Kakashi ... all that’s left today is your final approval for the magazine spread with Neji, but that should happen after Madara is done.”

“Good. I can go to my studio until he’s finished then.” Sakura was eager to do what she did best; put together scraps of fabric to make art. “I think I want to work on the men’s line today.”

“Do you want a model?”

“Yes, send me Shino. I like his body type for what I have in mind.” She needed a tall and slim man, but not too skinny. Sakura liked working with models that other houses turned away for not being the right shape. She would show the world everyone was beautiful. “Can you also send for Choji? I think I may have something that he would be perfect for.”

Tenten nodded. “Sure. I’ll call the agency right away.”

They went their separate ways when they reached the top floor, Tenten going to the office and Sakura going to her studio. Sakura opened the doors and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of each type of fabric, the oil from her machines, the steel of needles and spindles, the wood of the floor and counters. She smiled. This was her haven. 

She went to a back room to change. She worked best when she was comfortable. She hung up her red sheath dress, stepped out of her sky-high stilettos, and pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top with a pair of sneakers. When she came back, there was a cup of steaming tea with a plate of fruit waiting for her, she was grateful for Tenten always anticipating her needs. She walked the room to take in the view of Konoha in the morning, modern but verdant, then stretched out with a few yoga poses and went to her projects.

Sakura hardly noticed the time pass as the rhythmic sound of the sewing machine filled her mind, chasing away the chaos. She looked up when there was a hard knock at her door. 

The photographer filled the door frame. “What are you doing here?” she asked as she stood up, taking off her glasses and setting them down.

He held up a USB drive. “Just dropping off today’s photo shoot.”

She walked to him, noticing the shape of his body once again. He was in jeans that hugged him just right and a simple black shirt that clung to his chest. She took the drive from him. “Thank you. I’ll look at it later.” She turned but he cleared his throat. She looked back at him. “Something I can help you with, Mr. Uchiha?”

“I just noticed you’re working on men’s clothes.” His eyes darted around the room with curiosity.

“Oh, yes, I have a men’s line. Would you like to see?” 

He gave her a small nod, and she motioned to a few racks and some mannequins. She watched him as he reached to touch something.

“May I?” he asked before touching the fabric. “My hands are clean.”

“Just be careful,” she accepted. “How tall are you?” She couldn’t help but admire his build.

“Six three,” he answered, putting down his camera bag. “This is nice.” He felt the sleeve of a jacket, smooth like silk but breathable as cotton.

“The fabric is woven in-house. It’s unique to us only.” She let her eyes wander down his firm stomach to his muscular rear and strong thighs. “Sorry, but can I measure you?” He gave her a questioning look. She grabbed a measuring tape and walked up to him. “You have such a unique shape—may I?”

“What?” He tried to back away from her, surprised at her closeness, but she followed him with a predatory look.

“Oh, you owe me. I let you use the garden,” she countered.

He stopped, looking disgruntled; she had a point. “Fine, but I’m not a model or anything.”

She was already measuring his arms, then his chest, then his waist. “Yes, I know. This is just for me.” She blushed. “I mean, it’s just—you’re different, and it’s interesting.” 

She bent down to get the measurements for his legs and inseams, then stood up and pulled over a chair to stand on to measure his neck and shoulders.

“I could have bent down,” he muttered, slightly embarrassed as she moved him so she could reach what she needed.

“Oh, no worries. I’m used to it. You have seen how tall models are and how short I am right?” she giggled. “Plus, I get more accurate measurements when you’re standing.”

He had noticed how short she was when he first saw her in the garden. He had also noticed her emerald eyes, piercing and fierce, her lean legs, her small waist, and her soft curves that were now easily displayed in her shorts and top. He stood awkwardly as she measured every inch of him but what was between his legs. He drove away the thought from his head. She was not someone to mess with, he could tell from the first moment he heard her voice, crisp and sharp. Although now she had softened her tone; this was her domain, where she could be herself. She had even started humming softly.

“Do you have an event coming up?” She finally put down the tape and stepped down.

He shook himself out of his thoughts. “Oh yes—actually. How did you know?”

She put the chair back and turned to him. “It's not often that a man is looking for a tuxedo unless it's an event.”

He nodded; she was right. Not like he was looking for a suit just for fun. “My best friend is getting married, and I need a suit, but I have no idea what to get. What better place to look than at a fashion house?” As he watched her cross the room, tucking a stray hair behind her ear while she looked through a notebook, he felt like he could finally relax.

“How formal? What are the colors? Where is it at?” She was rifling through her sketchbook for ideas.

“Black tie, maroon and navy, and it will be in a garden in two months.” He went back to sifting through the jackets, feeling the textures of the different fabrics on his fingers.

“So, something classic, but with a twist.” She looked up to take him in again, his silhouette stark against the incoming noon sun. “I would do a single-button jacket with a vest, not a cummerbund. I think a shawl lapel would be interesting for you.”

He looked over at her, the sun shining on her face making her eyes sparkle as she spoke. “Can you write that down? Because I will not be remembering what you just said.” 

She laughed. He liked the sound of it, cheerful and sweet.

“Sure, but can’t your girlfriend help you?” she said, turning away so he couldn’t catch the pinkness of her cheeks.

“I’m single,” he answered simply. “You?”

She straightened up. “Same. Too much work.” She ripped a sheet from her sketchbook and walked over to him, holding it out. He looked it over.

“This looks good.” It was a sketch of the tuxedo that she had described. He folded it and put it in his camera bag. “I should get going. I've taken up too much of your time. Thank you for your help.” He swung his bag onto his shoulder. “Hope you like the pictures. Your designs are beautiful. They photographed well.”

“Thanks. I’ll look at them by the end of day.” She headed over to her computer and slid in the flash drive.

He nodded and started to leave. “Not to sound too arrogant,” he paused as he looked over at her, “but your designs looked better in the garden. Still, I gave you the studio shots you asked for.”

She chuckled. “Yet arrogant you sound. But thank you, Mr. Uchiha. Tenten has your payment ready at the front.” 

He left, and suddenly the room seemed smaller, which was odd, considering his size. She glanced at her computer as his files loaded. She needed to focus on her other work first, she would look at his photos after.

Sakura went back to work, barely remembering to eat until Tenten brought her lunch. When Shino and Choji arrived, she set to work dressing them and making adjustments. She didn’t realize how late it was until Tenten came by to let her know she was leaving.

“It’s six already?” Sakura sat back and stretched.

“Yes, it’s that time. Make sure you don’t stay too late, and don’t forget to look at the photographs from this morning.” Tenten adjusted her purse as she put on her coat.

“Oh, thanks for reminding me. I would be lost without you, Ten. Have a good night.” Sakura waved at her as she left, then went to her computer and started going through the photographs.

She cursed. That arrogant ass–he was good. His studio pictures were exactly what she had asked for, but the ones he took in the garden had something more. They had life. She could see the light reflecting off the threads, making the folds of her designs jump out; they had texture. Shit. She would have to redo the theme of the collection to fit his photographs. 

He would never let her live it down.

When she finally managed to get home with takeout from a Thai place, she couldn’t get his photos out of her mind. She pulled out her laptop. She knew her design team and Neji would hate that she was changing direction so late, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that it was right. She could feel it in her chest when she looked at his vibrant photos.

She ate as she worked. Her white cat, Yuki, jumped up on the couch, curling himself on the cushion. Sakura absently petted him as she finished all the necessary emails for the change in direction. Things were going to be interesting when she went into work the next day.

Sakura cleaned up the takeout and fed her cat before taking a bath to clear her head. The photographer kept coming to the forefront of her mind. He was a very well-put together man. She wondered what he looked like under his clothes. His wide chest, strong arms and shoulders, muscular thighs and rear ... 

Maybe she had been doing more than just innocent measuring earlier. She felt herself blush and puffed out in annoyance—now she was all hot and bothered, thinking of him. She needed some relief. She got out of the bath and grabbed her phone. Scrolling through her contacts, she picked a name and dialed.

As she waited for him to pick up, she went through her closet for a nightgown.

_“Hey, Sakura,”_ greeted a deep but friendly voice.

“Hi, Kiba. Are you busy?” She chewed her lip while she pulled out the nighty from the rack and put it on the bed.

_“Nothing that I would regret leaving. Want me to come over_?”

She could hear his eagerness; it made her smile. “Yes.”

_“Be there in thirty minutes.”_

“Great. See you then.” She hung up and got dressed.

Sakura had a few guys she would call when she needed to have a little fun and release some tension. Kiba was one she went back to often. He was a dog trainer and the brother to her veterinarian. He was rugged, handsome, tall, and brunet with dark brown eyes, and even more importantly, he satisfied her well.

Kiba knew the drill. He came in, there was no reason for small talk; she took what she wanted from him, and he gave it all and more. 

She fell asleep sated. He left somewhere in the early hours of the morning with a quick peck to her cheek and some agreement to dinner later.

Her day at work started with chaos, everyone rushing to ask her about the changes she had requested in her emails from the night before.

“We will have a meeting at ten to go over the changes and how we’re going to make them work,” she said, exasperated, to a group of her marketing team and designers. They grumbled as they walked away, taking the hint.

Tenten was typing into her tablet as she followed Sakura down the hall to her office. “Okay, meeting at ten.” She looked up as she finished. “So, his photos were that good?”

Sakura smiled slightly as she looked at her assistant. “Yeah, they were that good.” Then she scowled. “Which means Kakashi is going to be all self-righteous, since he’s the one who recommended Mr. Uchiha. That man will be insufferable.”

Tenten giggled. “Would you like me to schedule Mr. Uchiha to shoot the rest of the collection?”

Sakura thought for a moment. “He has a great eye, fresh and vibrant, perfect for this spring collection. Yes, see if he’s available ... actually, _make_ him available.”

“Will do. You also have a conference call at two with the magazine.” Tenten ran through the schedule for the day.

Sakura tuned her out. She knew the schedule already, and she knew she wouldn’t get any studio time. In her free moments, she found herself sketching the photographer in different clothes (and maybe a few without). _Purely professional_ , she told herself, but she couldn’t help but be extra careful to capture the slant in his eyes, angles of his jaw, the curves of his lips, the hard planes of his body; the lines that made him so appealing.

It was three days before she saw him again. He was outside in the garden again, shooting another session. She walked to him, her heels clacking on the stones.

“So, my stuff was better.”

She could hear the smugness in his voice. He hadn’t turned to look at her as he kept going with the camera in his face, clicking away.

She smirked. “Come by my studio when you are done here.” 

She heard an amused scoff escape him, and she turned and walked away.

When he came to find her in her studio, she was working on a men’s tuxedo jacket. She looked so focused and enthralled in the stitching detail she was doing, he pulled out his camera and took a picture. She snapped up from her work at hearing the click, her emerald eyes shining as she smiled at him. He wondered if he had ever seen eyes so beautiful; he was sure that if he had, he would remember, so to answer his own question, no. He had never seen eyes more beautiful than hers. He held up the camera in an apologetic gesture. “You looked so focused, couldn’t help myself.”

She laughed as she straightened up. “I probably look stupid. Just don’t go selling it to tabloids or whatever.”

“Of course.” He wouldn’t share that moment with anyone else—this was for his private collection. He put the camera down and pointed at the bust the jacket was draped on. “Working on something?”

Her cheeks turned a light pink as she chuckled. “Yeah, do you like it?”

He glanced at it. “It looks nice.” It was a midnight blue with a satin lapel and onyx buttons. There were still chalk lines and pins everywhere, but he could see the shape of it. “Yeah, I like it,” he reaffirmed.

“Great.” She smiled at him.

“So, was that all you wanted from me? Or did you want to go over the shoots?” He pulled out the flash drive from his pocket to entice her.

“Yeah, let’s go over them, and we can plan for the next one.” She tilted her head down as she smiled, tucking back her hair.

She didn’t know why she was acting so peculiar. Sakura did not flirt, she didn’t like the chase, she went for what she wanted and got it, but with him, there was a weird airlessness in her stomach. She swallowed down the feeling and walked over to the computer. He pulled up a chair as she sat down.

He held out his palm and watched her dainty fingers pluck the drive from his outstretched palm and put it in the slot. He brought himself back to the moment as he realized she had said something, but he had caught none of it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t catch that.”

“I asked how it went today.” She clicked around the screen, finding the files she needed, trying to focus. He was sitting so close; she could smell his woodsy musky scent. His presence was enveloping—and distracting.

He sat back, giving her space because she seemed tense. “It went very well. The light was great.” 

She went through the pictures stoically. It made him almost nervous, seeing those eyes sharp and analytical, not giving anything away. She kept scrolling back and dragging some photos to a file; he assumed those were the ones she liked. It seemed to go on forever. The click of the mouse, drag and drop was making his palms itch, he flattened them on his leg. He found himself leaning forward over her shoulder unconsciously. His nose was filled with her sweet spring scent.

Sakura was so engrossed in the photos; she hadn’t noticed his nearness until she sat up and hit the back of her head on his shoulder. “Ow!” She rubbed the back of her head in indignation.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, flustered, while standing up to take a few steps back. 

She laughed. “It’s all right. You have some big shoulders, Mr. Uchiha.”

“Madara, please.” He felt his face heat up at her comment.

“Madara,” she agreed, feeling his name on her lips. “These are great. Thank you.”

The way his name sounded in her melodic voice made his stomach drop. He needed to bring his attention back to his work rather than her wonder if her lips tasted as sweet as her voice sounded. “You stole me from other projects.” 

Sakura smirked slyly. “I heard we had to offer you more than what I would usually approve to get you to work for us.”

“You wanted me that badly?” he returned in the same toying tone.

Sakura stood up slowly. She could feel the energy change ... his eyes turned darker, if that was possible, her heart was quickening, and as she stepped up to him, she took his hand. “Yes.”

Madara forgot to breathe. The way her eyes trapped him like a predator, and he wasn’t used to being the prey. Then he felt the small object in his hand that she had placed there. He let out a breath and looked down. His drive. He cleared his throat. “Satisfactory?”

Sakura chuckled lowly. “Very. Thank you, _Madara._ ” 

The heaviness of his gaze, the heat of his body, it was making her want to lean closer to him. She stepped away from him. She needed some space. This little flirtatious scene was not something she was used to at work, but he brought it out of her. She pushed her hair behind her ear as she leaned on a table.

He swallowed his heart down his throat. She smelled so good—her eyes, her body—he wanted to push her against the table and taste her. He controlled his desire, clearing his throat. “I’ll be back for the next shoot in a few days.”

He turned to his camera bag, busying himself with getting his stuff together. It had been a long time since a woman had made him so flustered.

Sakura sat back down on the chair, watching him move. She tried to rid herself of the haziness she was feeling, but his very presence was making it difficult. 

He started towards the door but hesitated and looked back at her. She quirked her eyebrow in interest.

He took a mental snapshot. She was temptation. She was more beautiful than her models, just sitting there in her domain. He needed to be professional, but she was making it difficult. How could she be sitting there in unassuming shorts and blouse and still look like a fierce panther? “I like working with your designs. They’re refreshing.”

“And what we’re paying you is exorbitant. Extortion almost,” she teased.

He chuckled. “Apparently you think my work is worth it, but ‘extortion’—that’s a bit strong. I don’t want to make you feel like you’re being taken advantage of.”

She grinned. “Just keep doing a great job and prove that you’re worth it.”

He smirked. “Yes, Miss Haruno.” The confidence in her voice was so enticing. “See you next time.”

“Until next time.” She waved at him, watching his back as he left. She let out a trembling breath she had been holding, he was entrancing. She turned back to his photos. They were crisp, clear, vibrant, and almost sensual. She wondered if he was a big softy under those large muscles and stoic appearance.

When Madara came back, he couldn’t help but spend the day wondering when he would hear her heels coming behind him, or her rose hair flipping across a corner, or her eyes, those evergreen eyes. When he finished and she hadn't made an appearance, he became concerned and went down to see Tenten. He noticed the chaos and frantic energy from everyone running around like headless birds.

“Something going on?” he asked quietly. 

Tenten had a phone to her ear. She gave him a soft smile and motioned for him to wait while she finished. “Yes, Ma’am, I’ll get right on it— Yes, I’ll let him now —yes, I’ll tell Ino and Naruto.” She finally put the phone down and looked at Madara. “I’m sorry ... it’s been a crazy day. I haven’t even ordered lunch for Miss Haruno yet.” She ran to the printer behind her to grab some papers and came back. “Your payment will be deposited as usual, Mr. Uchiha.” She went back to shuffling around her desk.

Madara looked around. It was hectic, and not in the usual creative and business chaos he often saw. There was an underlying current of frustration and anger. “I’m going to get lunch nearby, want me to pick something up?” he asked. Seeing Tenten’s relieved face made him smile.

“Oh, I couldn’t ask that, but I appreciate the offer.”

“Really, it's fine. Anything she doesn’t eat?” He felt sympathy for the brunette. She was always so sweet and polite, and Sakura had mentioned extortion last time; maybe he could make it up to her a little.

“Thank you! She’ll eat anything really ...well, when she eats. Half the time she doesn’t eat.” The phone rang again, she picked it up.

He took that as a sign to get out of her hair. “I’ll be back.” 

The same frantic energy was felt all through the building as he walked out. Something big must have happened for everyone to be in such turmoil.

Madara let his stomach and nose guide him as he walked down the street. A scent hit him, and he wandered over—dumplings. He ordered a variety, not sure what Sakura and Tenten would want, and he also ordered some inari and dango, his favorite.

Tenten was still on the phone when he came back. He held up the bag, and she smiled and pointed at a door. He took that to mean to drop it off through there. He opened the door slowly and was surprised to find it was Sakura’s office. She was on a call, and she was livid.

Sakura slammed down the phone and let out a low growl. She was startled as she heard the door open and a large presence filled her office.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Tenten pointed for me to drop this off.” He hadn’t meant to just burst in, and now it was slightly awkward. She was not in a good mood, and that growl suddenly made the hairs on his neck tingle.

Sakura quickly composed herself. She sniffed the air, and her stomach groaned in need. She saw the bag of food in his hand. 

“I’m sorry for being so rude.” She motioned to a table on the corner of her office. “Thank you. You are a lifesaver.”

He offered her a small smile. “Something happen?” He put the food down, and they started digging in.

“Yeah, competition.” She shoved a dumpling in her mouth.

He knew she probably wouldn’t say much; he worked with her competition sometimes. It was part of being freelance: he knew a lot of things but could never say any of it. Instead, he nodded and continued to eat with her.

The phone rang again. Sakura groaned in annoyance and ignored it.

Madara chuckled softly. “Need a little silence?”

“I can’t even eat without someone needing me. I’ll handle it later. If it’s important, Ten will come in and tell me.” She reached for an inari. “Thanks for this ... it means the world. I’m sure Ten is so slammed that she couldn’t even worry about lunch.”

“It’s not a problem. She looked like she needed the help, and it looks like you were starving,” he answered.

Sakura flushed. She had probably been scarfing down food like an animal.

He laughed at her rosy cheeks. “No, don’t feel bad. Please eat.” 

He liked watching her in these moments, unguarded and just being herself. She was enigmatic. One moment she was a leader of a successful multinational fashion house, the other an artist in shorts with her hair in a messy bun, and now, a woman, happily enjoying a meal with him.

Sakura let out an embarrassed laugh and went back to eating. There was something about him that made her feel comfortable. She liked the contradiction that he was—large, imposing, and arrogant, but it seemed he did have another side she wanted to get to know.

“Please let Ten know how much this was so we can reimburse you,” she offered.

He waved her off with a grin. “No, really, my treat. I recently got a job that paid exorbitantly well.”

Sakura laughed. “Fine, then at least let me repay you some other way.”

“How about dinner?” He kept his eyes on hers. He could stare at her emerald eyes all day if she would let him.

She smiled coyly. “Sure, dinner sounds nice.” She never liked to mix business and her personal life, but maybe she could make an exception.

Madara liked her coyness. He sat back and smirked. “I don’t want anything fancy though.”

She chuckled. “What makes you think I’m fancy?”

He let out an amused scoff. “I don’t know, maybe because of who you are? The famous Sakura Haruno, your designs are in museums.” He pointedly looked around her office, full of awards and degrees. She surprisingly didn’t have many pictures of other celebrities like he expected. He concluded she was proud of her accomplishments but didn’t flaunt her connections with the rich and famous. 

“I mean, you’re so important, you probably get mobbed everywhere you go. Do you ever go anywhere without bodyguards?” he teased,

“Never. I mean I’m kind of famous.” She smirked with a wink.

“You’re witty.”

“You’re sarcastic,” she countered. She liked a man with a sense of humor; so many people around her were too serious.

They had finished eating when Tenten came in. “Sorry to interrupt, but there is an important call on the line for you, Miss Haruno.”

He stood up. “Time to take my leave. It was nice talking to you, Miss Haruno.”

She smiled at him. “I’ll tell you the details for dinner next time you are here.”

With a gracious nod, he left. 

Tenten sat at the table, grabbing her food, and shoving what she could in her mouth as Sakura took the call. Tenten gave her a sly thumbs up. Sakura had to repress a laugh. At least her assistant approved.

It wasn’t often that Madara was nervous or anxious, yet as he stood at her door, he felt a slight hesitation as his knuckle hit the wood. What was it about the petite, rose-haired woman that had him wondering why he was feeling like it was his first time on a date? He almost wanted to laugh at himself for being so melodramatic; but this woman, she was bringing out feelings in himself he didn’t know he could still feel. His breath caught as he heard the click of the door opening and then saw a wide smile on her face.

Sakura grinned as she saw him in his usual, well-fitted shirt and jeans and nice boots. His hair was pulled back in a low ponytail, showing off the sharpness of his features. “Hi, come in.”

He stepped into her house. It was nice but not extravagant, clean, and modern. He noticed she had art, paintings, and photographs of different things on walls. “Hello, Miss Haruno. Thank you. Your home is very nice.”

“Oh, thank you, and please, you can call me Sakura outside of work. Give me a moment, I just need to get my bodyguard.” She smiled.

He quirked his head in confusion; he had assumed she was joking the last time. Then he saw the playfulness in her eyes. “Ah, you almost got me there.”

“I almost did ... it was funny.” She laughed, opened a hall closet, and grabbed a bag.

He followed her out, taking a moment to admire her. She was in a plain yellow dress that fell above her knees and tan sandals, her hair tumbling down her back. Simple, yet so much more.

“I’ll drive since this is my treat.” She pulled out a set of keys.

He nodded and let her lead the way. They had been driving for some time and exhausted all polite and superficial conversation, silence settled between them. 

“So, where are you taking me?” He decided to ask to try to fill the space.

“Oh, there’s a food festival at the city gardens today. I thought it would be fun.” She glanced at him.

“That does sound like fun.” He looked out the window. All he wanted to do was stare at her features. To smother the temptation, he decided to watch the city pass by. He couldn’t trust himself, he needed to keep his eyes occupied.

Sakura chanced a quick look at him. He took up so much space, it was almost stifling, yet somehow also comforting. He had been quiet, staring intently out the window, for the last few minutes. “Aren’t you the strong, silent type?” she teased, seeing him concentrating on the outside.

He tore his eyes away from the scenery outside and looked over at her. Her smile was expectant. He must have been quiet for too long. “Sorry, I’ve been told I’m not very good at conversations.”

“Do you have any projects you’re working on?” she prompted, hoping to get some details about his personal life.

He really should put more effort into trying to talk to her and not being so quiet, but he couldn’t trust himself to not turn into a rambling mess. Also, he had spent entirely too much time thinking about how not to be awkward, which ironically had made it awkward. He brought himself back to the moment. “Yes, I have been working on my artistic portfolio lately.”

“Oh? Anything fun?”

“I’m doing a series on family ties.” 

She stayed silent waiting for him to elaborate. 

“It’s not just about traditional families, but communities and bonds.”

“That sounds wonderful. What made you pick that?” She was genuinely curious; it seemed a very sentimental subject for such a serious man.

He shrugged. He didn’t really like to talk about his life, but he felt inclined to be honest with her. “Two things I suppose. I had four brothers. They all died at war, and when I was a war correspondent, I saw so many families torn apart. I wanted to explore the family dynamic.”

She wasn’t expecting such a deep answer from him. It had seemed like he wasn’t the type to offer such intimate information so willingly. She was touched. “Wow, you have led an interesting life.”

He chuckled. “Sorry. That was heavy. I am having a gallery opening in a few weeks to showcase my collection. If you would like to go,” he invited gruffly, wanting to lighten the mood.

She grinned. “I would love to see your work.” 

They chatted for the remainder of the ride until she finally pulled into a parking spot. She turned off the car and turned to him with a smile. “Here we are. There’s a vendor that sells the best tacos I’ve ever had.”

“Tacos?”

“You are going to love them.” She smiled wide as she slipped her hand through his arm and pulled him down the street.

Madara couldn’t help but watch her as they wandered through the crowds and stalls. The way her eyes fluttered when she smiled, the ringing sound of her laughs; he was grateful to be in her presence.

“Remind me to never get into a dart contest with you,” he joked while balloons popped as she hit her targets.

She giggled. “Something about needles I suppose.” She picked out a stuffed cat and held it up. “It looks like my cat.”

“Oh, you have a cat? I have one too.”

“You have a cat? Forgive me, but I find that surprising.” She laughed.

He made a small sound of amusement. “I rescued her. Found her in the alley behind my building as a kitten. Poor thing was starved and flea-bitten.”

“Aww, you are so sweet!” Sakura exclaimed, loving the slight pink tint around his ears. “Here, you can have this one.” She shoved the stuffed toy into his hands.

He laughed, tucking it under his arm. “Thanks. So where are those tacos?”

Sakura took in his laugh, low and rich. He wasn’t the type to laugh often, but it seemed when he did, it came from deep within. 

She guided him down the stalls until she found what she was looking for. She ordered for them and walked to a picnic table with their food.

He eyed it. “This looks good.” 

She picked one up and took a bite. “They’re delicious.” 

He followed her lead, then made a sound of approval as he chewed. “These are really good.”

She giggled, watching him eat with gusto. 

After finishing, they kept walking around. She thought it was cute that he would snap pictures on his phone of all things, and she blushed when she caught him taking pictures of her at the most ridiculous times. Like when she was shoving half a taco in her mouth, or jumping up at winning another game, or her angry face when she lost.

“You are not a good loser, are you?” He put his phone away after snapping a picture of her furrowed brows.

“Can’t say that I am,” she admitted, “and will you stop taking pictures of me? I probably look so stupid.”

The corner of his lip tugged up. “You looked like a sore loser in that last one.” 

She was fascinating. She pouted, and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and taste her pretty lips. 

He cleared his throat. “This was fun. Thank you, Sakura.” Her name sounded odd coming from his mouth, but it rolled from his tongue nicely.

She blushed. “I had fun too. It’s getting late. Want to head back?”

Madara nodded. “Sure. I’m ready if you are.”

The ride back was much more relaxed. He scrolled through the pictures on his phone that he had taken. He hadn’t wanted to bring his camera in case she found it rude, but his phone still took great pictures. He found himself smiling when she came across his screen. He was so captivated that he didn’t even notice when they arrived at her place until she turned off the car. 

Her emerald eyes turned to him. He was silent.

“Um, thanks again for today. Do you want to come in for some tea? Maybe meet Yuki? My cat.” She amended at his confused face.

“Oh, um, sure.” He followed her back inside, where a large white cat came down to greet her.

Sakura picked up Yuki, snuggling him against her face. “Hi, baby. Miss me?” 

The cat meowed at her and licked her cheek. “Let’s get you some food.” She turned back to Madara. “This is Yuki.”

Madara held his hand out for the suspicious cat to sniff. “Beautiful cat.” The cat, seeming to accept him, licked him and rubbed his furry face on his palm. Madara scratched under Yuki’s chin. The cat purred immediately.

Sakura laughed. “Seems like he approves of you. Let’s go to the kitchen.” 

When they got there, she put a kettle on and started getting Yuki’s food. 

“Your home is beautiful.” he admired the clean and open layout. He saw a couple of doors, pointed at one, “Bathroom?”

She poked her head up from the drawers to see what he was pointing at. “Oh, yes. Please go ahead.”

Madara was walking back until he noticed there was a room in the back. Curiosity getting the better of him, and wanting more insight into her life, he peeked in. It was a home studio with more fabric, machines, books, and drawings littered throughout. He caught sight of a tuxedo jacket in maroon with a navy lapel. It called to him. He stepped in to inspect it closer and caught sight of a few drawings beside the mannequin. Deep, intense, dark eyes and angular features—his face.

Sakura had lost track of Madara and walked around to find him. Noticing her studio door open, she rarely closed it, she looked in, and sure enough, that’s where he was, looking at her drawings. 

Her face burned. “Oh gods, that’s embarrassing.”

He turned back, startled, and felt his face heat up. “This is me?”

She walked in and took the papers from him. She knew her face must have been scarlet. “Um, yes. You have such great features. I was intrigued … and um, well, inspired, I suppose.” She looked away from him. “I’m sorry. This is probably very weird. You probably think I’m weird.”

"I take pictures of you. I find you intriguing, too." He looked back at the jacket on the figure before it could become more awkward. “This is what you described that day.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, it was just an idea I couldn’t get out of my head, and I started working on it is all.”

He reached out to touch the fabric. “It’s really nice. May I try it on?”

A small smile appeared. She took it off the bust and held it for him while he slipped it on. She smoothed it over, fixing the lapel and the buttons on the front. “It looks good on you.”

He looked down at her small hands, burning against his chest. His lungs seemed to be having trouble taking in enough oxygen. He reached up to take her hands in his, and her eyes locked on his, searching, wanting something. In an unspoken agreement, she reached up on her toes, and he leaned down to meet her halfway, and, in a moment that took an eternity, their lips met.

Sakura felt her heart stop beating as they kissed. He was so warm, spicy, and comforting. His hands went up to her neck, cupping her face tenderly as she clenched his shirt. His fingers caressed the hairs at the base of her neck, making her moan softly. She pressed herself closer to him, feeling his firm body against hers.

He broke off, needing to regain his breath and for his mind to catch up. “I’m sorry…”

She was panting, her pink lips glistening.

“No, don’t apologize... unless you plan on stopping.” She went back to kiss him again.

“Mmmm… no… not stopping…” he managed between kisses.

“Good. Off.” She tugged at the jacket, undoing the buttons, and pushing it over his shoulders. She let her hands wander the expanse of his torso, wanting to feel every muscle.

She was a breath of fresh spring air. He lifted her up and set her on her worktable for a better angle, and she wrapped herself around him, burying her hands in his hair, nipping at his lips. He groaned. She felt like a dream, she tasted like heaven. 

Then she was tugging at his shirt. He took the hint and pulled it off.

Sakura couldn't help but smile. He was built like a sculpture—marble skin, firm body, wide shoulders with a trim waist. She wanted to memorize him. “You’re so beautiful,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. No one had ever said that to him. Wanting to hide his bashfulness, he took her lips again. Her fingers explored every part they could reach, like an engineer trying to figure out how things worked. She made small moans of appreciation when she touched something she liked, until he finally had to stop and laugh. “Do you want me to just stand here and let you inspect me?”

She smirked. “Maybe. I don’t know if I want to touch you or draw you right now.” She laughed.

“How about you touch me now, and I’ll let you draw me later?” He nipped at her neck. “As long as I can photograph you after?”

Sakura shivered at the thought. “Just between us?”

“I would never share you with anyone." He kissed behind her ear.

“Deal,” she breathed out. Her body screamed for his touches now that her dilemma was resolved. She reached behind her and started to undo the zipper of her dress, but his large hands took over for her, pulling down the straps as his lips followed, kissing down her shoulders and arms.

She was sweet, her skin like cotton candy. Madara slowly uncovered her, leaving the top of her dress to cover her breasts just enough to tantalize. He moved from her slim waist up to the underside of her breasts, making her gasp.

“You’re so beautiful." He pulled down the rest of her dress to reveal her mounds, full and firm. “So perfect.” She mewled as his large hands went to cover her breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands. He bent down to kiss her neck, nipping lightly at her skin.

Sakura liked how he enveloped her. Needing to do something herself, she reached for his pants, pulled off his belt, and undid his zipper. He groaned as she slipped her hand in to grab at his hard, and sizable, member. Her insides clenched in anticipation; she couldn’t wait to feel him fill her.

Her hands were hot on his shaft as she stroked him, her moans more desperate. It had been so long since he had been with a woman who wasn’t afraid of him. He was used to having to be slow and gentle, but as Sakura pulled off her dress impatiently, separating them, he realized she didn’t need to be coddled. He chuckled as she wrapped her legs around his waist pulling him back to her with a smirk.

The look on his face gave her confidence. This big, powerful, beautiful man was surprised by her. His throbbing thickness was pressing against her cloth-covered folds. Her hands tugged at his hair, pulling his lips to hers. “Madara,” she purred, staring deeply into his obsidian eyes. “I want you inside of me.”

Madara stood frozen as his brain processed what she was asking—well, saying—there was no question there. He wasn’t used to women being so forward; usually they were intimidated by him, but here was this tiny, rose-haired woman telling him to take her. He laughed softly. She was something else. 

Without warning, he yanked her panties down her legs. She yelped and started laughing as she fell back on the table. Her laugh was contagious. “Sorry, should have been more careful.” He threw the pale lacy thong behind him somewhere with a grin.

Sakura whined as she looked at him, begging him with a look. “Madara…”

He smirked, her hands reaching for him as she spread her legs for him. “Fuck …” 

He quickly took off his shoes and pants. He wanted to take his time and explore every beautiful inch of her, but her eyes were commanding, the dark pools of a night forest. He stepped forward, nestling between her smooth legs, and took a deep breath as his eyes roamed over her nudity. Her rosen hair haloed around her on the table, her pomegranate lips plump and pouty. “You’re so beautiful.” 

He looked down at those proud breasts, pink peaks on porcelain skin, then all the way down to her puffy and glistening folds, his cockhead right against her. He pushed forward, rubbing his length between her slit.

She whimpered. “Madara, please, I can’t wait. I’ve been wanting you since I first saw you.”

“I can tell you can’t wait,” he said in a low, husky voice. “You’re so wet.” 

He bent forward to taste her breasts, feeling her nipples harden against his tongue. She was squirming as he grinded against her; he couldn’t stall anymore. He moved up to her mouth, silencing her complaints as he slipped his tongue past her lips. She moaned as she gave into him, her tongue circling his. She pressed the heel of her foot against his back, and in a swift thrust, he entered her completely. She arched and cried out.

“Oh, Madara!” Her walls convulsed in protest at being stretched so quickly. It felt amazing. “Aaah! So big!”

He grunted as her pussy clenched around him. “So tight … and hot …” He was breathless between kisses, his hand sunk into her tresses, holding her head.

He wasn’t even moving, and she felt like she was going to melt. “Move.”

He huffed in amusement. “You sure like telling people what to do, don’t you?”

Sakura smiled at him in faux innocence. “Habit.”

Madara nibbled on her lips as he pulled out to the tip, then sheathed himself quickly again. She moaned so prettily. Her lashes fluttered. “Is that what you wanted, Miss Haruno?”

The way he said _Miss Haruno_ made her spine tingle ... no one had ever called her that in bed, but she wanted him to continue. “Yes, keep going.”

“Tell me what you want, Miss Haruno.” He was hers to command. He liked her confidence; she knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to go for it. 

He wanted to know what she wanted from him now.

“Are you sure? You aren’t very good at following orders,” she teased.

“I want to follow them now,” he bit her bottom lip. “ _Miss Haruno_.”

“Mmm … I like you calling me that,” she keened as he shoved himself back into her, hitting her deepest places.

It was exhilarating, seeing her panting, wanting him. Her domineering presence at the office was something he had immediately liked. She filled any space with her commanding energy. 

Her legs were squeezing him, urging him to go faster. “Do you want more, Miss Haruno?”

“Oh! Yes! More!” 

He pulled her legs off him and pushed them onto the table, opening her up and looked down to see how he disappeared into her. “You’re just sucking me in,” he groaned.

His tip hit the top of her walls at this angle, and her hands moved behind him, scratching at his back, hardly able to contain the pleasure surging through her with each thrust. “Yes! Yes! Keep going.”

“I just want you to cum, Miss Haruno,” he purred against her ear, licking and nibbling where he could reach. “Then, I’ll do what I want with your delicious body,” he promised in a dark whisper.

Sakura felt her very bones catch fire at his words, “Yes, you can do what you want to me—after.” He felt incredible. He did everything she asked, every one of his sentences with a _Miss Haruno_ that made her bask in her control over him. “Suck on my nipples.”

Madara gladly went lower, taking her hard nubs into his mouth, suckling and biting gently. He alternated between them, her fingers now scratching at his scalp. He made sure to keep a deep and steady rhythm. He was patient, he could take his time. He only sped up when she asked.

Sakura clawed at his back without thought. His mouth and cock were stealing away her control with every passing moment. “Harder, fuck me faster.” She writhed. She was so close. She could feel the impending pleasure ready to erupt.

He bit her nipple hard, tugging it as he slammed into her. He could feel her nails scraping, leaving trails in his back. The pain was delicious. She was screaming, sobbing for more, as he pistoned into her. “Like this, Miss Haruno?” he asked breathlessly.

She clung to him, her nails digging into his back and arms. “Yes! Yes! So good!” He reached down to flick her clit, and within moments, she was screaming his name, the rushing heat overtaking her as she climaxed. “Oh, Madara!”

He held her, slowing down, letting her enjoy every moment of her peak as he watched intently. “How are you feeling, Miss Haruno?” he kissed her gently.

She giggled, opening her eyes slowly. “Mmmm… very good. Thank you, Mr. Uchiha.”

“I like the sound of that,” Madara smirked at her. “Now for my reward.”

She yelped as he suddenly straightened up and grabbed her legs, putting one on his shoulder and pinning the other down. “Try not to cum too quickly ... I won’t stop until I want to.”

The smile on his lips made her heart skip a beat in both fear and excitement, but before she could say anything about his cockiness, he started pumping into her, setting a merciless pace that had her crying in pleasure.

“It was so hard not to fuck you like this,” he groaned as her walls, still tight from her orgasm, started to accommodate him. “Such a tight pussy, Miss Haruno.”

She was trying to hold onto something, anything, as he rutted into her. The table was squeaking in protest with each powerful thrust. She found the edge with one hand and gripped it tight as her other wrapped around his wrist against her thigh. She couldn’t hold on to her thoughts; all that came to her mind was ecstasy. She didn’t even have time to try to hold back when another orgasm ripped through her. Her torso lifted off the table from the intensity, and, true to his word, he didn’t stop. She was sobbing, tears she couldn’t control falling down her face from the assault of pleasure.

Madara sucked in a sharp breath as she tightened around him again. He didn’t want to cum yet... he wasn’t done. She was shaking as he kept going, babbling for him to slow down, but he ignored her. Instead, in a quick move, he flipped her over the edge of the table, displaying her perfect ass for him to admire. She whimpered as she pressed her cheek against the table, trying to catch her breath in the short reprieve he was granting her.

Sakura moaned as he pulled her hair away from her face and gripped it at the base of her neck. He sank back into her. “Too much …”

“I think you can take it.” His voice was husky as he kissed behind her ear. “I am going to wreck you, Miss Haruno.”

“Please—” 

Whatever she was going to say flew away as he started moving. In this position, she could feel him deeper, felt fuller.

Her pretty lips were open, panting, trying to form words that she couldn’t finish. He ran his hand down her smooth back, moist from perspiration, until he reached the swell of her hips, where he held onto her as he fucked her. She was divine. He pulled her torso up, and her head fell back against his chest as he kneaded and plucked at her breasts.

Sakura could barely breathe from the onslaught. He had told her to not climax too quickly, but it seemed he was trying her best to break her resolve as fast as possible. She knew if she came once more, she would pass out, but she had very little control over what her body was doing. The way her hips met his, her hands gripping his powerful thighs, the sounds she was making—all of it was far from her control, and she loved it.

He chuckled as she moved with him. This was just how he wanted her, giving into him. He lowered his head to hers, pulling her lips to his for sloppy, wet kisses, their tongues uncoordinated and eager. Her bright floral scent was intermixed with the tanginess and musk of their sex, and he knew the combination would stick with him forever.

“I can’t …” she mumbled. Her nails dug into him from desperation. Whether to stop or continue forever she wasn’t sure.

“Cum for me, Miss Haruno.” Madara commanded. 

She reached up to his wrists, holding on tightly. She was falling into the ecstasy. 

Madara ate up her pleading moans, he could tell she was close. Her heat tightening deliciously around him. Then she screamed, convulsing against him from the strength of her orgasm. He held her tight as she came again, her skin slick from the sweat of their sex. This time he was out of self-control, and as her pussy squeezed him for his climax, he gave in. He groaned out as he released himself into her.

She sobbed with each twitch and squirt as he filled her. It was so hot, like liquid fire. Her knees gave in, not able to support herself any longer.

He lowered them to the floor, she had drained him in every way. He curled around her, his hands caressing her skin soothingly. She could feel his chest rising and falling behind her—he was just as breathless as she was. 

When she had regained herself enough, she lifted her head. “How about we clean up and go to a bed?”

He let out a satisfied sigh. “That sounds wonderful.” He pulled on his pants and shirt. “I need something from my car. Be right back.” 

He rushed out to grab his camera and came back to find her gulping down water in the kitchen.

Sakura smiled and handed him a glass that he downed in a few gulps. She looked at the camera. “Promise you won’t share them? I might make you sign an NDA,” she teased.

He chuckled. “I will happily sign a nondisclosure agreement, but you should know I’m possessive enough to not want to share things, and I don’t want to share your pictures with anyone.”

She laughed, then took him to her room and filled the tub. He snapped pictures of her in the water. To her surprise, her embarrassment fell away quickly, every click of the shutter giving her confidence, and the compliments he rained on her made her feel sexy. “Okay, that’s enough, get in here already.”

Madara put down the camera and sank into the water with her; as much as he wanted to preserve the moment, he also had to remind himself to be part of it and enjoy it. She crawled forward to him and kissed up his chest, to his neck and jaw. He hummed in appreciation, pulling her into him. “Miss Haruno, you are dangerous.”

She giggled. “Mr. Uchiha, I’m only dangerous if I don’t get what I want.”

The innocent tone of her voice held a dark edge to it that made him shiver deliciously. “I don’t know if I would rather give you what you want or see how dangerous you can really be.”

“You’re going to have to stick around if you want to find out,” she nipped at his ear.

“Oh, I intend to stick around, if you’ll have me.”

She kissed him deeply. “I need you around, Mr. Uchiha. It was fun today, and I want more.”

He grabbed her ass and set her over his lap. “I’ll give you more, but I won’t go easy next time.”

She grinned. “Good gods, that was you going easy?” He smirked back at her. “I can’t wait.”

The next morning Sakura was awoken by his mouth between her legs and his tongue swirling around her pearl. “Oh … Madara …” 

She cracked her eyes open to take in the early morning view of his wild hair and onyx eyes gazing up at her in pure lust. She looked over to the bedside table, where he had left his camera, grabbed it, and snapped a few pictures.

He paused; he was never on that end of the camera.

“Don’t stop ... I want my own pictures too.” She felt his chuckle as he went back to pleasuring her with his mouth.

She was delectable, a feast for him to gorge on, and he was going to have his fill.

Madara was in Sakura’s home studio. He had her posing nude. Draped over various fabrics, fabrics draped on her, bent over on the table, and sitting down pretending to work.

“I don’t see why I have to do this nude. It’s a magazine feature on my work,” she pouted as he fixed her position.

He smirked. “Oh, these are for me.”

She threw some fabric at him as they laughed. After taking the professional set, he uploaded them onto the computer, and they both started sorting out pictures. There was a file for the nude ones, a file for the sexy ones in which she was nude but everything was artistically and teasingly hidden from the viewer, and the one that was going to be sent to the magazine.

He had her on his lap as they worked, teasing her every time he saw a picture he particularly liked of her, which was often. When they were finally finished, she was riding his cock on the chair, making it hard to concentrate.

It wasn’t until after they were spent on the floor that her phone rang. It was Tenten, her voice of concern bringing Sakura up to reality. She looked at Madara, “You sent the pictures to the magazine?”

He opened his eyes to look at her, “Yes, right around the time you were choking on my cock.” He grinned, then turned into a look of worry seeing she wasn't smiling back. "Why?”

“And you sent the right file?” she pressured.

He couldn't recall exactly ... all that came to his mind was how slick her mouth had been. “Pretty sure.”

“The magazine is asking if I meant to send them pictures in such seductive poses.”

Madara shot up. “What?” He jumped to the computer.

His silence was unnerving, and she went up behind him. “Gods damn it, Madara! You sent the wrong file!”

Tenten chuckled on the other side. “Well, if it helps, the magazine loved them, and they are very tasteful, no outright nudity. They said something about the juxtaposition of having a clothing designer being nude that was artistic. Neji was surprised, but even he agreed with the magazine.”

Sakura groaned. If Neji, her Head of Public Relations, who was very conservative, agreed, she had to give it real thought. “Fuck it, fine, you and Neji can look over the magazine photos and pick which ones you like best.”

“Oh, are you sure? You usually like to give final approval.”

“Yeah, but if I see them, I’ll be too embarrassed and reject them all. I trust you both to be objective.”

“Alright, I’ll tell Neji, but really, Madara did a wonderful job.” Tenten tried to ease Sakura’s mind.

“Yeah, but he is about to be in big trouble.” She hung up.

Madara sucked in a breath at her predatory look. “I’m sorry! I wasn't paying attention. Your mouth …”

“I’m sorry, _Miss Haruno_." She smirked darkly. “You are in so much trouble, Mr. Uchiha.”

**Author's Note:**

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